


tear the roof off

by cokeslushie



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fix It Fic, M/M, connor is the same bc his arc is already pretty dang good, do we watch connor deviate at some point ?? You Bet Babes, eventual connor n markus bc they have like big destiny ties and im not a coward, i have a lotta thoughts david, markus is carls caretaker & kara is the leader of the revolution, swap au, theres some markus n simon if u believe, this is taking over my life, violence will be Later but its gonna Be There
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-05-29 01:02:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15061634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cokeslushie/pseuds/cokeslushie
Summary: Luther showed Kara the place called Jericho, and she fights tooth and nail for it.Markus is lost and found, over and over.Connor is a machine on a mission, and hopes to keep it that way.





	1. they built you up

**Author's Note:**

> This is a lil fix it fic I was bouncing around with some of my friends! I'm really into the idea of fixing what I see as major problems in the game, so here's a start! Please let me know what you think!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara's got a plan.

Kara knew and understood three things so far; 1) Alice loved her but absolutely hated spaghetti. 2) The humans deserved everything they had coming to them and 3) she had a new favorite gun.

North checked and reloaded Kara's firearm. The two would do this before every mission; North checking and rechecking every inch of the plan, just to be sure. There was something . . comforting about it. Like a ritual. Kara noticed how trained North's eyes were, how quick her hands worked.

Her mind started to drift elsewhere. A cabinet meeting they had just gotten out of, cementing the plan. She went back, memorized the worried faces and determined glares. The others, Simon & Josh, tended to be a bit more wary of Kara, but they still followed. They still trusted. North, above all others, trusted. She had even let it slip that she thought Kara could be the infamous  _rA9_ — the first to wake up, the missing messiah.

Kara had laughed nervously, tossing her white locks and took North's hand. "I'm no messiah."

"Maybe you're mine."

Kara felt the weight of the firearm in her hand and fell in love with it. Securing it in her place, she went through the checklist in her head. Parachutes? Check. Guns? Check. Ammo? Check. Message for humans? Check. Alice?

Oh, right, right.

Alice found her first, being carried around on Luther's broad shoulders. Her arms were outstretched and a grin took over her features. She had called it "playing airplane". Kara couldn't help but smile.

"Hi, Kara!" Alice shrieked, giggling as she near lost balance. She clutched onto Luther's head, accidentally poking him in the eye.  
"Ah, careful, Alice." Luther noted, blinking away discomfort. Luther had always been softer with her. "If you fall, who knows if I will catch you!"  
"You'll catch me! Won't he, Kara?" Alice asked, doe eyes determined.  
"Of course he will." Kara patted Luther on the chest. _'_

_< I'm heading out. Do you wa—  >_

_< < I am there.>>_

Kara smiled. Raised her arms up to have Luther put her daughter where she belongs. All giggles, Alice melted into Kara. "Are you going somewhere?" the child asked once she had simmered out.  
"Yes. On another mission. We're gonna get the humans to see us." She planted a timid kiss on Alice's brow. Alice always looked so . . concerned when other humans were mentioned. "Be careful." she decided.

Kara set her down, moving her child's dark hair out of her face. Playfully, she quipped, "Me? I'm always careful. Now, Simon is waiting for you. We'll be back soon."

"Okay!" A quick hug. Footsteps running off.

"Ready?" North called, Josh by her side. Luther straightened himself and headed over. Kara took the bandana offered by North — painters. Nice touch.

"Let's tear this city apart."


	2. death in a tarot card

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara tells it like it is.  
> Markus tries to process.

The mission had been a complete success.

Sneaking into the comm tower to deliver a nationwide message on behalf of android kind? Ballsy. Succeeding and going further based on that? Solid steel.

That stunt had been 6 days ago and the media was having a field day. She'd been in Jericho less than a month, and anchors everywhere wondered if she'd go further. Kara was going to go further, alright, she had plans to expand Jericho beyond the needy and lost — an open haven towards all supporters of their cause. A headquarters. She would spend hours, hours, bickering with Simon and Josh about revisiting the humans methods of emancipation. Kara shivered at the word. Humans had taken a lot from her. Humans had beaten her beyond recognition, tortured her, wiped her clear of all things that made her _her_ and she still _wanted_ this. She took a deep breath she did not need.

She stood her ground, Luther beside her in the cabinet room.

"To directly reuse the humans means of freeing themselves from each other would be a means to an end. We would be copycats, repeating humans actions as if that is all we know to do. We are not human. We will not die human. We will not take that past from them and play it as our own. I don't want it. We do this our way. We do this new, and loud, so they see us and hear us every second of every day. We're getting out of this, but we're going through our doors to do it."

North had kissed her then. Quickly, unexpectedly. A rushed meeting, followed by a sigh she did not need. "Okay." North smiled. "Where do we start?"

Plans to expand Jericho went into production, and Simon had been bouncing around the idea that they open up a communication network with neighboring sites. Detroit wasn't the only city turning on its head. New York, San Francisco, Dallas, Miami, you name it, and something had gone down. There was a fire now, an unmistakable heat rising from underneath the previous cold tension between two intelligent forms of life. Fire was dangerous and foolhardy. Fire could kill them all in wrath, in war.

But Kara knew that it is always necessary to burn down parts of a forest to watch the under grow.

This would be worth it.

She could almost feel the growing grass under her feet.

* * *

 

" _Wakey, wakey_." Markus heard Carl's voice, shooting him out of sleep mode.

He checked his systems, quickly, and tried to place his location. He was in some sort of warehouse, maybe an old CyberLife unit? He groaned, mustering up the energy to get his legs working. The warning in his vision blared: "Sight Compromised, Seek Component Immediately". Markus nearly chuckled at that, in his delirious state.

Seeking.

He held his injured head and tried to process.

They had been so close.

As soon as the message from the android known as Kara had went up, Markus had made it his mission to get Carl out of Detroit. At first, Carl scoffed at the urgency, said it was a fluke that would blow over.

Then the attacks started.

Humans throwing away their androids, androids fighting back and leaving their owners to die. In the past month alone, reports had spiked in violence of all types. Primarily against androids. Markus had watched a special report on a case that involved a man hitting his android over the head with a baseball bat thirteen times, the scene covered in blue. Markus was no stranger to violence, he had himself a few rough-em-ups on the street but this — this he could not be here for. If he were to die, Carl would be alone. And if Carl were to die, Leo would sell his legacy to go where the ice is red.

To think about it made Markus software instability rise.

So Markus had issued for a flight for Carl and himself, to take them across the border to one of Carl's scenic studios. He had not calculated the idea that the patrol for the plane ride would be monitoring androids. He had not calculated that they would not let him board.

Carl had caused an uproar. The man never cursed, so watching the scene felt surreal. "You bastards are telling me that my son can't board with me? Are you out of your goddamn mind, that's my caretaker, that's my family!" The guards had tried to "reason" with him; promises of a new caretaker once he meets the border, assurances that Markus was not his son, so on and so on and Carl didn't wanna hear it.They sent Carl and Markus to be evaluated and processed after everyone else board. He spun to Markus and waved him down. "You need to get out of here."

"What?" Markus blinked, his voice soft. "What, Carl, no, that's crazy. I'm not leaving you, not now." "Yes, now." Carl placed his hands on Markus' shoulders. It had been instinct to lean down to him. "I've seen you watch the news, I know your heart aches to be with your people. They need you more than I do, right now, Markus. This revolution thing they got going won't mean a damn thing without you. You get out, you get free."

Markus processors were running wild. He was being _told_ to _defect_. Sure, he had been glued to the tv and yes, he felt the need to be there. To be the helping hand, to ship out biocomponents and put these pieces back together. But not right now. It can't be right now.

"Carl, I can't! I don't understand, I'm—" "Markus." His tone had changed. He was pleading now, his worn face met with determination and . . sadness. "My boy. You need to find those androids and give them every last drop of hope you give me. I know you can do this. I know you can do this."

Markus was crying. He could feel it now, on his cheeks. He watched Carl tear up, watched his father lean back and nod.

One last analysis found pride in Carl Manfred. Pride for his son."

"Go, now."

"I love you, Dad."

Carl smiled. "Go."

Markus turned on his heel and ran. He could hear the guards shouting, could hear bullets whizzing by him. He dodged, his processors whirring in accordance to his newfound situation. He ran past guards, scared civilians, other androids. He ran until he tasted thirium in his throat. And then, a guard with a baton stood straight in front of the man. Markus' eyes drifted to the baton for a mere second. On the top was a blade, perfectly shined and perfectly sharp.

It was then that Markus knew — this revolution, this change, would end in bloodshed. There was no peace to be found here. There would be _none_. The cut was swift, and Markus had no time to react. He fell to one knee, his mouth agape, blue blood slashing the concrete.

His systems went haywire. He had no eye. He had no eye.

He rose, stumbling, and rushed the guard. He ran, faster, a scream wanting to push through him. He ran until the shouting faded out. He ran until he could no longer. He had found a corner to turn into, and collapsed. He rose, now, memory in check. He had to get clean, patch up his eye, and get to Jericho. Markus let out a shaky breath and made his way through the warehouse.

He can do this. He _knows_ he can do this.


	3. what you had to do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Jericho crew makes a plan.  
> Markus has an epiphany.

_I love you, Dad._

  
The memory in its entirety looped in Markus' database, trying to process his actions and where to go from here. He had laid low, had acquired plenty of replacement parts from the warehouse — even got himself a new eye. It didn't match, no, they had none for his model. He should have calculated such, he is a prototype, afterall.

  
The bright blue eye was worlds better than the makeshift eyepatch he had made himself. It had itched - he was itchy now? - and looked . . well, suspicious, of course. He snuck his way into a hotel for the time being, deciding that hiding out in the warehouse for another night was not viable. The hotel didn't allow androids, but with the new heterochromia and a hoodie to cover that LED, he certainly didn't _look_ like a machine. The man at the desk smiled at him, waved him in after he produced a name and payment.

  
Markus Manfred. $40.

  
He hoped Carl was safe. There was a 87% chance that he had board the plane after letting Markus escape with minimal trouble from the authorities. The 13% scared him. The idea that they could have detained him, or beaten him, or — no. No, he was overreacting. Carl was fine. He always was.

  
_I love you, Dad._

  
Markus examined himself in the mirror once more. Maybe he could try his luck and buy some new clothes from the shop nearby. Who knows how long it would take to get to Jericho, he'd need all the help he could get. There were hints in the news he watched that night, talk of the "deviant hunter". Markus admittedly knew little of him, only that CyberLife had issued a lone negotiator prototype who would aid the DPD in deviant roundup. An RK800.

  
The same make as Markus.

This stuck out to him as we watched with glazed eyes. RK800. Deviant hunter.

  
Markus was deviant now. He hadn't really thought about that yet. "Them" became "us" at the strike of a blade. He could feel it in his body, his wiring, his processors and thirium pump. It sounded more like a heartbeat than ever. His blue blood in his body left him marked but it did not leave him lesser. He was intelligent, he was present, he was —

  
**Alive**.

* * *

Kara had known stress. Almost losing Alice in a crowd of retreating humans? Stressful. Having her memory wiped when Alice needed her most? Stressful. Those instances of panic and fear had nothing on what was currently happening in Detroit.

The rich and ready humans got out - jumped the border as soon as they could, androids left behind.  
Now, they faced what remained - a raging middle class of humanity and a screaming artificial people who had just unlocked emotion. "Red ice" and "deactivation" were spoken of frequently. As time had gone on, more humans became addicted, and more problems arose. Infighting among both groups was Kara's new pain in the ass.  
She had her people in Jericho bickering about who to let in. There were many, too many, and not enough space. Not enough time.

Some were abandoned, some were mutilated and others only had hours left before their bodies would give up on them.  
Josh, made of hope as he is, suggested trying to reanimate those lost with new parts from their CyberLife raids. North, fire as she was, spat that the dead don't deserve what the living require. Simon had sighed and looked out from their shared window in the cabinet room. Below, hundreds of their people stumbled around - trying to aid each other, trying to stay alive.

  
"We have to move." He finally said, calmly.  
"Uh-huh, sure, move where?" North retorted, her hair whipping around her as she turned to Simon. "Where do you wanna go, with all of them and more coming?"  
Simon, not even turning to look at her, hummed and continued. "We should go and take the area surrounding Lafayette. The park and the apartments would be plenty to house those already well, and make room for those coming." Kara considered this, scanning her memories for a map of their city. "Okay," she said carefully. "But where we are is in decent proximity to our biocomponent shipments. I say we tend to those in need here and move those who are able . ."  
There were a series of looks and nods. Appointments, declarations, "I got it"s.  
After it was settled, Kara thought she would be more — less — just feel better, she thought she would feel better.

  
She didn't. The creeping fear of humans getting sick of playing this game, the dread of moving people away from a place of comfort. The paranoia crept into her mind and swept into her blood until she was sure it was black.

  
North came back then, leaned her side against Kara's desk. They had given her a sort of meeting room, since she was their spokesperson. Their beacon of light, their voice. Kara swallowed and in a voice not worthy to speak on behalf of a people, she said, "North. I think I'm afraid."  
North leaned down and planted a tender kiss on Kara's head. The other looked at her with unseeing eyes, her pit filled with inky fear.

_This was not going to work. They were going to all kill each other and whatever god had put them up to it would have a fucking field day._

  
North looked at Kara like none of that mattered. She looked at Kara like she was shining with the light of the moon, held Kara's face in her hands as if the slightest movement would break her. There was something peaceful in being fragile. Some sort of bravery in their momentary softness. Kara leaned up and kissed North, carefully, indulging to even close her eyes.

Their hands found each other.

They held on tightly.


	4. a dreamer just like you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three people make three decisions.

The sharp sound of the coin cutting through the air brought Connor back to the present.

He had been swimming in reports with the Lieutenant, minor crimes, domestic charges, runaway androids. He knew that there was some sort of grouping, something about Jericho, but no one on the force knew where to go from there. It seemed to be an underground operation, with no outside ties.

It drove Connor absolutely mad. He had laid out possibilities and theories until he was close to overheating, and it got them nowhere. Now, he had recieved word that a RK200 had ran away from an airport —

An RK200.

The same make as Connor.

He blinked, LED flashing yellow in a blotchy manner to process that for later. "You holdin' up, kid?" Hank grumbled from behind his mug. Connor made a minor note that that was his 4th cup in 2 hours. He was sure it was spiked, but so be it. This influx of cases warranted a bit of stress relief. "I find myself to be . . in a frustrating situation. We don't have the resources to attend to all of these calls, and prioritizing them proves tedious." He bit his lip, a habit he had picked up from watching Hank stress.

"Any that catch your eye? We could start there." Connor glanced up from his terminal. It wasn't rare for Hank to ask Connor's opinon, not anymore, but it still piqued the androids interest when it happened. He contemplated mentioning the RK200. He had been in line to board as the caretaker of a Carl Manfred. There was a 93% chance it had defected, and escaped in hopes to find the refuge all deviants seek. If they could track it, they could maybe get to the bottom of this Jericho business.  
"Maybe. Here, look at this, Lieutenant."  
Hank shot him a look over the brim of his terminal.  
"Hank." Connor corrected.  
Hank grunted in approval.

"Runaway droid. Can't have gotten far, it's only been a couple of days and a model like that isn't going to exactly blend in." Hank finished his coffee and sighed. "Worth it, if ya ask me."

Connor nodded, mostly to himself.  
He found himself wondering what the runaway android would look like.  
He wondered if it looked like him.

He hoped not.

* * *

 

Markus did not know where the hell he was going. The people in town didn't seem to pick up on his nature, so buying clothes and shelter was easy enough. However, he couldn't really ask _"Oh, hey, do any of you know where the android rebellion headquarters is located?"_  
His head was flooded with thoughts, he recognized them as that now.

 **Thoughts**.

There were no strict patterns of processes, no order to the chaos of images and words in his mind. Thoughts about Carl, about what Jericho might be like, about civil war, about this deviant hunter. He had learned the hunters name.  
Connor.

Some shopkeeper who sold him three hoodies had mentioned that he thought the model was cute, wish they distributed it for domestic use. The comment made Markus' chest burn with what could only be disgust.

"Domestic use".

It's as if the people here have no idea what is going on in their own city. He had thanked the clerk anyway, curtly, and found that he had been digging into his palms the entire way back to his room. He had no reason to feel protective by any means. Maybe it was because that was still one of his own, maybe even of a closer kinship than most? Still, the solid truth that if confronted, Connor would put a bullet in Markus on sight did little to settle his raging mind. He stepped outside that night, into the rainy dusk, and took a deep breath. His eyes drifted over across the street.  
There, a blond android had been cornered by three humans, who seemed to be harassing him. Markus caught slurs, could feel the harshness coming from the confrontation. He grit his teeth.  
The blond android seemed to be plotting a way out, less peturbed by his attackers and more . . inconvienced. And then, he was hit squarely in the jaw. Markus let out a gasp, his body turning to the action against his better judgement. What was to stop that trio from killing them both? Another hit. Markus heard his boots hitting the wet concrete. He saw the group getting closer, saw the thirium dance on the watery sidewalk.  
Before he could process what he was doing, his fist was connected to the aggressors jaw, red blood splatting the brick wall behind them. Markus didn't have time to check on the blond android, he had to focus on getting these three out of here.

He leaned down to avoid a hefty arm smash into him, grabbed onto the arm and flipped its owner over on its head. He heard a solid "duhn" and a yell.

The gun came as a surprise.

Quick, quick, how to take that out, how to — Got it. Markus stood solid, and made eye contact with the firearm holder, and promptly snapped the mans arm in half. Okay, there was the one on the ground, the one with the gun, where was the, uh, the bric— he got clocked rather quickly.

There he was.

Recovering from the hit, Markus spun and landed a clean kick to the final thugs head, knocking him out. Maybe for good. Markus didn't really have time to check.

He turned to the blond android who had been leaning on the store door, away from the action.  
"Are you okay?"  
"Why. . did you do that?" The blond laughed a bit into the question. The rain mixed with his blood, drenching his hair and staining his sweater.  
"I'm like you." Markus blurted, chest full.  
The android blinked a few times. Instead of a thank you, or laughing in his face, or running for his life, the blond reached ahead and touched Markus' head. Images burned into Markus' mind; flashes of places he's never been before, murals he's never seen, data he could not process. Then — Jericho. Kara. Simon.

  
"Thanks." The blond, Simon, smiled softly. Markus worked his mouth uselessly. "Do you want to be free?" He asked the question as one might ask "Do you like the rain?" or "Give me directions downtown?" Casually, gracefully. Markus stood still, watching the blond pick up his package he had been carrying. Collecting himself finally, he answered, "More than anything."

Simon's soft smile turned into a grin.

* * *

Alice's footsteps around the cabinet room were the most comforting thing Kara could think of. Tiny hands playing at tacks on the map, a soft hum when she read something interesting.

"Kara?" Alice called, voice soft.  
"Mm?" Kara asked, moving out of her seat to meet her daughter.  
"Where's Simon?"  
Kara moved dark hair out of her child's face. "He's out on a special mission. He's trying to reach out to our neighboring sector, and he'll call us when he gets there, okay?"  
"Can I talk to him when he calls?"  
Kara smiled, warm as ever. "Of course you can."  
"Do you think he'll tell me a joke, too?"  
Kara laughed, light, pulling Alice close. "Sure, he'd probably love to."

If Kara had been honest, the idea of sending Simon to scout out the neighboring cities scared her beyond comprehension. Simon was the mediator, the voice of reason, the smiley one with patience in his heart. If they lost him, if she lost him — She swallowed.

"Are you okay, Kara?" Alice asked, face buried in Kara's neck. Kara nodded carefully, humming an agreeable tone.  
She would not lose one of her own. If anything happened . . She decided.

She would either make this city theirs, together, or she would burn it all to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a lot of free time.


	5. anything or anyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's trapped in their own head.  
> Connor and Markus meet.

Simon had explained to Markus as _slowly_ and as _sharply_ as he could — yes, he was working with Kara and his current mission was taking a turn for the . . different. He was supposed to maintain a connection with the nearby sectors, each lead by a different trustee. If they had been at war, one might think them generals.

"Aren't we?" Markus asked quietly, sitting carefully on the bed of their motel room. The space was falling apart, and Markus was sure if he scanned the bed, he would find — distasteful data. So he kept himself small and let Simon work.  
"Huh?" Simon asked halfheartedly, scanning over his journal of networks. The holographic notebook gave Simon a glow that Markus could get lost in. But it wasn't the time.  
"Aren't we already kind of at war?" Markus tried again.  
Simon gave that pause. "It feels like it." He settled. "It feels like at any second we'll just give up the act and tear each other apart." Simon set his journal down, his eyes downcast. "I don't know if I should tell you this, but . . sometimes, I see it. I see Kara just — just loading a gun, giving North the okay, and rampaging the city. Demanding our rights, ripping it out of cold, _dead_ hands." Simon's LED was a solid yellow, sometimes stuttering red.  
Markus focused on every detail of the other man.  
"And, like, why _shouldn't_ they? You know? Like, I get it! I get it, but I know that if we — if they — trying to get revenge would end in _extinction_. For us both. All." He sounded exasperated, sighing, LED leaving its crimson state and moving back to a nervous yellow.

"An eye for an eye and the world goes blind."  
Simon looked up out of his stupor. His face twisted as if trying to process what he had just heard. "Yeah. Yeah, actually! That's," he let a laugh slip in, nervous. "That's exactly it. That's why we can't. I mean, who leads blind men?"  
Simon laced his fingers and placed them under his chin thoughtfully. "I'll take you to Kara, after I'm done here. I think she'd wanna meet you." Simon's crisp blue eyes met Markus's mismatched ones. "You're special."  
Markus shifted in his seat, a bashful smile taking over his features.

He was reminded of his nights with Carl; painting and wisdom, family and praise. _You're special. This revolution won't get off the ground without you._  
Markus hadn't noticed when Simon moved closer in on him. "Your eyes . . you could change them to be the same."  
Markus pondered this, searching Simon. "Yeah, I suppose I could. But . . I don't want to."  
Simon grinned.

Kara was going to love this guy. 

* * *

Kara hated every second of this. She had a moment alone, but a storm came for her in her mind. Her thoughts pounded in her database, demanding close inspection of every last one. Oh, if she could have been sick.

Simon had been gone for a little over 2 days now and every hour he was away, panic dripped into Kara. She had left the caretaking to Luther; now, she stayed up and wrote manifests with North — documenting every piece of equipment they get shipped and every android who is ready to move. It was gruelling. Names bounced around in Kara's head and she had bet that if her LED was still intact, it would be a raging red from all of this stress.

She loves her people, her heart aches to free them, yes, to lead them to safety and happiness after years of neglect but there is something else in there. An exhaustion. A fear; backup plans for backup plans. There is always an option to go wrong, and ever since her video, the public has been keeping their attention here, in town. Kara couldn't afford to draw the wrong attention, sure, but oh — oh, just sometimes.

Sometimes it would be easier to take it. Take it all. They don't want it anyway, they want sex and violence and red. They want gunshots and fists and yells and **everything**. Androids don't. Androids want a home, want love, families, a fresh start. Well. . most of them, she figured.

Kara sighed, leaning back in her office chair. They had plans. They would not riot, they would not become the four horsemen. They would move and bargain and move again. Until they were seen and heard and protected, just like everyone else. She would play nice with the President, shake the Chiefs hand until all was right. She wanted carry her people home.

Kara had, however, resigned herself to the idea that she might die, no matter what. Should peace be obtained, violence might make it to where she won't see it. Should they go to war, she would spear them, and most likely be one of the first to fall. 

And North would be there. By whatever god, would she be there. By Kara's side, always, hair flowing into her braid and her red LED casting a glow on her face. She was war and passion and so full of life that Kara didn't know what to do with her sometimes. She wanted revenge, and Kara understood that. Felt that. And through this, their shared destruction, they bonded and built something better. Kara could see the future and the future was strawberry blonde hair paired with stormy eyes. The future was slender hands and combat boots. The future —

Her thoughts went to Alice. Alice, her daughter, who she had saved. Saved. That was it for Kara; Alice was proof of the contrary. Alice loved and was loved by androids, Alice saw the good in every little thing, Alice took deep breaths and laughed loud. If she could save Alice from her fate, why not save them all? 

* * *

 

"So, why do ya think they do it?" Hank had pondered while he drove them home. Ever since Connor had broke into his house to save his drunken self, Hank had been more open to letting the android stick around. A lot had happened between them, afterall. Connor had listened to Hank's favorite records, made it a point to walk Sumo, organized Hank's closet. Connor jeopradized the mission twice now to save Hank. The first time during the chase of a deviant, who self destructed and the second being this afternoon. He didn't shoot that girl. Android, he meant. He couldn't. And Kamski had told him nothing, only that what he was feeling, that pit in his body that made him want to cave in on himself when proposed to shoot a pretty blonde between the eyes? That was empathy.  
Only deviants feel things like that. _Only_ deviants.

"Do what?" Connor finally responded, giving his processors a break.  
"Why do they like go haywire, deviate? I mean, we saw, ya know. . They can fall in love, or whatever, once they do but. ."  
The two Tracis. Another ding for Connor, he had let two deviants run. He couldn't shoot them either. He wondered if he still knew how to shoot. "Kamski might've told us if I had—"  
"Hey, hey, son, cut that shit out. Kamski's kind of a douche, I doubt he woulda said shit even if you did kill that girl." Hank snorted.

  
_Girl_. He had called the android a girl.

  
"I bet it's like a breaking point type thing." Hank continued, pulling up towards a stoplight. "Like, you only take so much until you . . wake up. Wake up or something. Like your guy's softwares just gotta," he made a sound like a toaster being thrown in water. "Literally shock you out of your program or some shit. Like the Tracis or whatever, right, they had enough. Yeah." Hank trailed off. Connor noted his use of the word literally. A tell of his age.  
Connor's eyes drifted to the sidewalk. One had to pass downtown to get to Hank's place, and the shops were still open right about now. Right where they were stopped, Connor caught something. Someone. A man with a buzzcut, broad shoulders sheltered by a long white coat. He had no LED, so he must be — there was something so — he scanned the man quickly.  
_Accessing quick-scan information ..._  
_Model: RK200_  
_Registered Name: Markus_  
_Gifted from Elijah Kamski to Carl Manfred._  
Connor was already opening the car door.

"HEY, hey what the hell? What the fuck are you doing?" Hank yelled. At the same time traffic picked up, causing Hank to have to abide by the pattern until he could get out.  
Markus hadn't seemed to notice Connor, not yet. Maybe this didn't have to be a scene, maybe he could just convince the android to follow him, quietly—  
And he's running. Shit.  
Connor swerves inbetween oncoming pedestrians, eyes trained on his target. He was thankful for such an obvious tell, that long white coat. Markus made a sharp turn and Connor pursued. Chasing the white rabbit down the rabbithole.  
They would reach a dead end here in less than 56 seconds, according to Connor's map. And they did.

Markus turned to face Connor and Connor felt like taking a step back.  
Blue and green. Two different makes on one model. No LED. If Connor hadn't followed his instinct, he would've never known. He felt his gun heavy in his hands.  
Before he can open his mouth to do his usual spiel, a soft and warm voice clouds his sensors. "What are you doing?"  
Connor thought it was pretty obvious what he was doing. He was doing his job; catching deviants, reporting to CyberLife. Still, even with this fact so simple, he couldn't voice it.  
Markus held his hands up, slow, eyes trained on Connor. For a second, Connor felt like he was the one on the rooftop of a building and this android was the negotiator. Wait. That had to be a miscalculation. Androids don't feel. They don't feel at all. It's not —

"You're not your programming." Markus says, as if reading his mind. "You're not their puppet, they can't make you do their dirty work." Connor's grip on his gun was so tight, it might've even hurt. He raised it to train right between Markus' eyes. "Stop." He forced. "I am a machine, and I am designed to do a task. This task involves bringing you in, and everything like you." 

Markus took a calculated step closer. "Do you want to?"

Connor froze. Want? Did he want to — want to, what, to hunt, to follow his programning? What was want, desire? He had . . he had no desire, of any sort, he was a machine, he was not alive.  
What could only be described as memories came to the forefront of his mind. He had let the Tracis go. He had wanted to go to a rock show with Hank. He liked walking Sumo. He wanted to punch Gavin Reed. He laughed at the radio, he smiled at the secretary at work even though it had nothing to do with any mission, she was just— nice. It was just right. He had put the fish out of water back in the tank. It was just right.  
"We, you and me, we don't have to live like this. Where I'm going, you're free to choose. We'll all be free to choose, soon, but right now, you can choose. Do you want this?" Markus cocked his head to the side when he asked his question. Connor's software instability was rising. "Do you want to be their tool? What do you think will happen after this?"  
He knew what would happen after this. He would be taken into the CyberLife headquarters and should he succeed, have his memory wiped and be stored until reactivation. Should he fail, he would be dismantled in an attempt to figure out what went wrong with him. Dismantled and replaced. Of course.  
"They don't care, Connor." Connor had lowered the gun without noticing and Markus was closer than ever. Markus held out a tentative hand.

"But I do."

Connor's eyes widened at that. What. Why? Why, why, why, why, what the hell is happening. "We do." Markus corrected quickly, skin fading to reveal ivory on his fingers.  
Connor could take his hand. He could. He . . almost wanted to. He reached out, slowly, every processor in his mind screaming at him not to, to kill the deviant, to finish the mission, to do anything else.  
Their fingertips met only briefly, enough for Connor to see a mural and a smiling blond.  
"What are you doing, kid?" Hank yelled, out of breath from running. Connor turned back to him, breaking whatever connection, mind still dizzy. He opened his mouth to say something, but what? What? "The guy's gone, too, dammit!" Hank wheezed, walking up to Connor. "Where's your gun, Con?" Hank raised an eyebrow at Connor, who seemed to be in some sort of shock. Markus had left with the gun. Connor couldn't bring himself to scan the area, to continue the chase. Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe this wasn't a deadend after all. 

"You alright, son? Are ya malfunctioning or something?"  
Connor shook his head slowly. "No, Lieutenant, I just . ." He was going to be destroyed and replaced. And for the first time since his activation, he equalled it to dying.

And he was afraid.

"Okay. Okay, kid, let's go home." Hank laid a heavy arm on Connor. It was only then did the android realize he was trembling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY i got some notes and i went back and edited some minor things in the previous chapters. its been about a month since kara took over now, and i reckon that the end of the fic will wrap up with another month on its belt.  
> also connor n markus !! yum !!


	6. like real people do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara meets Markus. Plans are set in motion.   
> Connor has a lot to process.

When Kara closed her eyes, she saw fire.

She saw the cars turned over on their sides, broken windows and bloody fists. Red and blue. She could see Stratford Tower lit up like a beacon, taken over and rummaged through, fire dancing behind glass.

Kara shivered, focusing the vision on the people around her. She saw fire and she saw bodies. Mangled. Piled. Ivory and skin. Hands, blood, legs, bone, holes, sharp angles that have to be impossible. There would be no peace to be found in this. There would be none. 

North put a tentative hand on Kara's shoulder. She had been slouched over, her LED spinning between that critical yellow to a dangerous red. North shook her shoulders lightly, leaning down to rest her head on her lover's side. "Kara."

Kara's eyes opened sharply. She was ripped from her turmoil, the fear that she was bathing in — the fear that everything could go **wrong** — and brought back to her office. In the cool and quiet space, North's warmth pressed against her back. "Kara," North repeated, with even more care this time, pressing a kiss to her side. Right over her LED. "You okay?" Of course, North knew Kara was not okay. But the question, so soft and casual, reminded Kara of where she was. Who she was. Kara hummed, placing a hand over North's.   
"I am now." Kara responded, thoughts of the end of the world drifting away. The LED spun back to its peaceful blue with another kiss from North.

  
"How did it go?" Kara asked, leaning into North. Sitting on her desk proved to be a good idea, this would be a task in her office chair.   
"Simon's back." North provided, fingers in Kara's snowy hair.   
Kara hummed again. Simon had been gone for over a week now. She should greet him, she was sure Alice already had. "He got in contact with every single sector. The two who originally worked in town moved south, spread the word." Another chaste kiss. "We're stronger than ever in these cities, thanks to your connections."   
Kara turned to look up at North, eyes meeting the storm.   
"Thanks to you," North said, that rare smile on her features. Kara found herself shivering, a smile finding her.   
"Thanks to us." She corrected. A proper kiss.   
"The media is taking notice, I think they're on our side. For the most part, I guess." North buried her face in the crook of Kara's neck.

This level of intimacy, these quiet touches were typically rare and short lived but Kara wouldn't trade them for anything. Kara needed it, needed the closeness and the warmth that North provided. Her strong words. her sense of self, her long blonde hair.   
She didn't want to think about this revolution, she didn't want to make anymore plans or lists or orders. At least, not tonight.   
Tonight was for the stars, for distractions and music, small talk and soft touches. Tonight was for drowning in her love for North. She would drain her fear, just for now, and cover them both in this aura of peace. They would be in love tonight and nothing else. Not friends, not generals, not rebels, just lovers who want and need.   
Just for tonight.

  
And hopefully every night after this.

 

Kara hadn't realized Simon had brought a friend until several hours after his arrival.   
"Hey, K, I'd like you to meet someone." Simon had offered, voice easy, as he guided a slightly taller, curious model forward. No LED, mismatched eyes, strong stance but nervous hands; Kara almost mistook him for human. "This is Markus. He's helped a lot and I think he can do even more."   
Kara bit back the desire to give a little sass — _you picked up a boyfriend on your mission?_ — and opted for diplomacy. She shook Markus' hand with genuine care. "Hello, Markus, I'm Kara. It's nice to meet you."   
Markus nodded, looking more in his element once the handshake was initiated. "Same to you, miss. I've heard a lot about you. I'm . . utterly inspired by your work, your passion. You've done so much for us," That last sentence was quiet. Laced with reverence. Kara couldn't help her bashful feeling. Markus' voice was warm and inviting, like you talk to him about anything and he'd whip you up some hot cocoa and hear you out while delivering advice for you.   
"I only hope I can return the favor."   
Kara nodded, getting back into the moment. Simon placed a hand amiably on Markus' broad shoulder.   
"Markus here thinks we may have an in with the DPD. And also has a few connections within CyberLife itself."   
"I want to shut it down from the inside, if at all possible. Expose some dirty laundry, make it known what our people go through at the hands of their provider and, you know, why humans should care." Markus spoke as if he'd gone over this a million times in his head. He had an aura of confidence, one that reminded Kara of President Warren.   
"I'd love to hear that." Kara couldn't help but smile. Faith was in her blood.   
Simon hummed, patting Markus on the back. He had a knowing look about him. It was as if, finally, everything was falling into place. 

* * *

Connor's life was falling apart.

He laid underneath the massive pile of Sumo, absentmindedly petting and scratching between the dog's ears. He tried to process his latest encounters. Everything was happening so quickly, and normally that'd be fine by him but right now? Right now, he felt like he was melting. 

To start, that encounter with Markus. Markus. _Markus_. His eyes haunted Connor's vision, his words burned into his database. _Do you want this? They don't care, Connor, but I do._   
Why would he care? Why would he _say_ that? Every logical outcome in his mind told him that that sentence must have been a trick, a ploy to get Connor to lower his guard so the deviant could best him. But Markus hadn't bested Connor. He simply left.   
Ever since, Connor found himself looking through files to see what the world knew about androids connections to other models in their line.

It turns out that the world knows next to nothing.

Apparently, the topic of android connection and adaptation isn't interesting enough. Go figure.

Still, Connor found witness files from a couple years back. Records about an android who considered the model behind her to be her sister. They had both been caretakers to an elderly woman, and when their charge died, they ran. By now, they had been dismantled, of course, but Connor kept thinking. There was no reason, aside from proximity, for those two androids to recognize each other as family.

His mind went to the two Tracis. The same model, in love. A connection that withstood even their constant memory erasure. It was fair to assume that androids in the same model are more suspectable to connection, but that hardly explained what was going on between him and Markus.   
Connor gave that idea pause.

What _was_ going on between him and Markus?

Taking his time, Connor dug his coin out of his pocket and tossed it from hand to hand.   
There was . . something undeniable there. He wanted to hate it. He had no reason to think about this as long as he had, no reason to focus and file Markus' words over and over.   
_But I do._   
The interfacing had been quick and had shocked Connor so bad that Hank stayed up that night to make sure Connor would function. The word Jericho bounced around in his head.   
A word Amanda did not like.   
Connor flicked the coin into the air, trying to focus on the cutting noise it produced.   
Amanda. That was another thing. She had told him when he had last visited the garden that if he failed to complete his mission soon, he would be called back to CyberLife.   
She should have just said terminated.

Connor did not want to die. He understood that now, as he understood that Amanda would feel no remorse in killing him. Neither would CyberLife. There was always a replacement, always an evolution to be had.

Still, Connor knew that completion of his mission would result in - at the very least - killing Markus. And for some reason, that scared him. It filled him with dread, it was worse than when he held the 9mm to Chole's head. It was so much worse to rid the world of him.

_I always keep a backdoor in my programs, just in case. You never know._

Connor froze.   
Kamski had given him something. It was stupid and would destroy him and provided didn't actually mean shit but it was something.   
Connor let his eyes fall onto the fan above where he lay on the living room floor. Sumo was long gone, eating kibble in the kitchen. Hank was asleep by the snores from his room.   
Connor let his eyes roam and his thoughts drift back to the one thing plaguing him most.   
_Markus_.   
< _Connor?_ >  
Connor sat up, startled, hearing Markus' voice as clear as day in his head. His software instability rised as he scrambled to his feet. What the hell?   
< _Connor, is that you?_ >  
<< _Holy shit_.  >>  
<< _How are you_ . .  >>  
< _I guess the interfacing was strong enough to leave a connection. You called me._ >  
Markus' voice was easy, casually explaining the phenomena. Connor's breathing was shallow, his systems must be heating up. There was something else in Markus' voice. Something kind, like awe, like . . relief?   
<< _I have to go_.  >>  
And with that he forced the connection shut. He stood alone, in the silence of his living room.

Some humans believed in fate, but Connor never had. He had never even thought about it, it never pertained to the mission so it was unimportant. Now, with Markus' tone burning holes into his chest and Amanda's threats sticking ice in his head, Connor was left to wonder if fate was real.

He wondered if it applied to androids.

He hoped not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oKAY i had a writer i really love compliment me and now im big inspired. the trio will meet soon !! exciting stuff. im thinking of wrapping this up in a few chapters, not much to do now except see the plan and if it works !! will kara succumb to her desire to scorch earth ?? will connor give in to his orders ?? Who Knows   
> hope y'all like it ! ill post the next chapter today too


	7. that would be enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus' plans stirs things up.

The plan was simple.

Markus, honestly, felt like an absolute genuis and produced a list of objectives he had obtained while at Simon's side. They would produce another video, another call to action. This time, it would not be in just Detroit — it would be **everywhere**. All of their sectors would broadcast them at the same time and they would _not_ be ignored. Shortly after, they would make their movement from Jericho to the new Lafayette development public. It would be an undeniable act of unity and rebellion all in one.

There was always the chance that the humans would use deadly force and the night would end in war. This is what Markus worried about. But, he hoped, with the right numbers, they could make it.   
That's where Connor and CyberLife came in. If Markus could convince Connor to infiltrate CyberLife tower and free the upcoming series of androids in their walls, their numbers would be astounding. To boot, if they were gunned down, CyberLife would take it where it hurts; all of that money down the drain. They'd have to start all the way over, maybe never start again. That might be enough.

Markus had spent hours trying to convince Kara and her counsel that the infamous deviant hunter was himself, deviant. North hated it, eyes burning. She probably didn't _not_ like Markus, sure, but she would not walk all of their good men to be slaughtered. Markus had tried to explain that they aren't alone, this revolution would _not_ die with them. Josh seemed anxious, processing the idea in his head. Markus swallowed.

They were really going to hate this next part.

As soon as the words left Markus' mouth, silence fell in the room. Luther, who held post in the doorframe grunted. He spoke up for the first time in all of Markus' stay and simply said, "No."

Simon, by Markus' side, raised a diplomatic hand. Markus had run this part by Simon before and had earned his support. Nervousness flooded through Markus.   
Kara's face, usually bursting with her wide range of emotion, was blank. This frightened Markus the most. Maybe he had overstepped, maybe this was wrong, maybe —   
"I mean. . it makes sense." Josh finally offered, shrugging his shoulders. North whipped around quickly.

"Are you fucking kidding me? So, not only are we walking into a death trap, you want Kara and Alice on the front lines!" 

"There is a chance that they won't engage with us if Alice is present." Simon says, quietly.

"Fuck that." Luther adds. North points at him, agreeing with his eloquence. "We came here to protect Alice. That's what's important."   
"This is bigger than us!" Simon countered, his hands in front of him. "Right? Yeah, at first, it was just surviving. Just us! But now, we have a chance to live! Don't you want to buy a house and watch Alice grow up? Be free, get the hell out of Detroit?" That was directed at Luther, who looked steely.   
Kara still said nothing.   
Markus was internally panicking.   
He knew they wouldn't kill him, but they could throw him out. He would be alone.   
He opened his mouth, then closed it. What he wanted to say stirred in his head. It burned his tongue. It could mean his fate would be broken, but even so —

"Why do they hate us? Humans. They _hate_ us. They torture us, spend thousands to buy us just to break us. I've been thrown down onto the street, I've had my jaw kicked out of place. I've seen men pull off our arms as trophies, I've seen blue blood run down the sides of buildings. They make us to do absolutely everything for them; sex, cleaning, cooking, replace their kids, replace their partners. They made us and they hate us and why?" Markus swallowed, clenching his jaw. He balled up his jacket, the white fabric soothing against his hand. "It's because they don't see us as equals — and they don't see us as beings capable of love. They don't see us as anything more than parts following programs, machines in an assembly line. If we can't feel, it doesn't matter that they kill us. We're objects, we're money, we're _nothing_." He spits that out like poison.

He turns his eyes up to meet Kara's. "What is more human than love? What's more universal than a mother and her child? What you and Alice have is groundbreaking. When they see you, they will never question us again. The media is already tilting towards our side, we are already in the middle of this." His eyes scanned the room.   
"Let's say they burn this place down. Let's say they run us down like nothing. It won't end there. We have allies, human and android alike, in every major city in the country. If Jericho falls, it falls. But this — what we're doing here, now — this is forever. They will always know that we are living, we are fighting and we love just as much as they do. We deserve just as much as they do — and we're going to get it."

The silence fell over the room again, heavy. There was something in that silence, something that buzzed.   
Kara was the first to move. She sat up straight, eyes keeping Markus' gaze.   
"Okay, Markus. Let's do it."   
There were a few surprised noises, North beginning to mumble something meant for Kara but their leader held up her hand.   
"Apparently humans have this glass ceiling, a point in history that is never touched and never passed. President Warren is said to have broken through the glass ceiling. But we — we will not be punching a hole in history. We will not be aiming to just barely meet the top. We will tear the fucking roof off."

Simon's eyes lit up.   
Markus released a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, and grinned.

* * *

The world turned upside down. Connor could feel it in the car with Hank. It was late and Hank was eating his burger, had offered to buy Connor a drink. Connor almost responded that androids don't drink, but thought better of it. He now held a 32 oz cup of some sort of cola and left his gaze for the window.   
Something was happening. Maybe it was the creeping fear of Amanda disabling him from within at any time. Maybe it was the desire to know what Markus was doing right now. Or maybe he was just tired.

He had to be just tired.

Hank hadn't pressed on whatever had happened during the encounter with Markus. Connor was grateful for this, knowing he would start rambling if asked about it. He'd get lost between his words as he does with his thoughts.

So, when Hank does speak, it is quiet and genuine. "Son," he started. Connor gave the man his full attention. He only ever called him son when things got serious. "Whatever's goin' on, whatever you're planning," he gave a side look to the android. One of concern and determination. "I got your back."   
Every scrambling thought in Connor's head ceased. All of the fear that had been brewing in the back of his head dissipated. Everything he was afraid of was still so present, but the realization that he was not alone . .   
Well, it was enough. It would always be enough.   
"Thank you, Hank." Connor's smile was real and full of relief and god, this was everything.   
"Yeah, yeah, kid. Drink your drink, ya can fill me in later." Hank started up the car. "Been thinking about getting another car for ya. Or a bike. Whatever androids like to ride."   
Connor's thirium pump stuttered. Hank had every intent to keep Connor around. After everything, without question, Hank wanted Connor to stay.   
It was then that he realized he was crying. The coolant felt warm on his cheeks. He wiped it away quickly while Hank kept his eyes on the road.

This was everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> got like another chapter or two in mind but like we really out here 
> 
> im not gonna stop writing connor/markus btw i just think that the one i write next will live in this universe ?? i just wanna give connor a motorcycle 
> 
> please tell me what you guys think !!


	8. you start to believe it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jericho is not a place, it's a people.

< _Connor. I need you._ >  
Connor tried with every fibre in his being, every wire in his system, to not answer. It was early in the morning, he could hear the television in the living room drone on. Hank was probably still asleep. Sumo would have to go out soon.  
< _Connor_?  > Markus' voice in Connor's head was crystal clear. It was the only thing that made sense, the only thing he found himself wanting to focus on anymore.  
Before testing out any outcomes, he started. << _What do you need_?  >>  
Connor heard Markus sigh in relief. His own chest twisted with dread. If his fate were something made real, he had sealed it. His software instability was off the charts, he knew it, and the blazing notifications telling him to cease the connection and tend to his calibrations.

But he knew he couldn't. Sitting here, in Hank's house, he knew what he had to do. He wanted to _stay_. He wanted to learn about sports and Hank's teams, he wanted to teach Sumo how to roll over, he wanted to see Markus again in person, he wanted to go to his job at the DPD without reporting every little thing to CyberLife.  
_Do you want this?_ He could finally provide an answer. Yes — yes, he did want this. He wanted it all.  
< _I need you to meet me. Can you do that? I'm about to be in the arts district, there's a popup shop called Seaside's_.  > Connor doesn't answer at first. He hears the fear in his voice, the desperation. But, Connor notes, there is that lovely softness. The confidence of a man with a plan, the hope of a people.  
<< _I will_.  >> He stood and crossed over to scribble a note for Hank.  
< _No guns this time, yeah_?  > Markus' tone was light. Connor smiled to himself.  
<< _No guns_.  >> Connor confirmed, sliding on his standard issue CyberLife jacket. He pauses, wondering if he should wear something else, something less. . no.

No, he wanted them to know. Whatever was about to happen was going to be seen. It was dangerous, helping Kara and Markus, but he would do whatever they needed. He had to. His new life would depend on it. To boot, imagining the faces of CyberLife's top representatives slackjawed as their golden boy - their "perfect" model - was no longer their toy to threaten. He would do no dirty work, he was afraid, he was fucking _terrified_ but he would do this because he wanted to do this.

He was deviant. He was deviant.

Connor met Markus, gorgeous in his white jacket, at the cornor of the shop the other had mentioned. His yellow LED burned into the side of his head but he would carry on. He had to. Markus held out his hand in greeting, smiling warmly. "I am so glad to see you, Connor."

That was a first.

"What do you need me to do, Markus?" Connor asked, voice level, letting the odd-eyed man hold his hand. He felt that warmth, that connection. It was still so odd. He was running on the equivalent of adrenaline, he knew this. He didn't know what was going to happen afterwards, but he found himself wanting to try. Maybe that's what Markus had felt too, after running away.  
"It's . . I need you to get into CyberLife HQ. If at all possible. I was thinking th—"  
"You want to free the newest models and lead them out." Connor finished for him. Markus looked surprised and impressed, a smile playing at his lips. "You really are a detective, huh."  
"Yes, it is my primary function as it were. I was made to deduce and react." Connor met Markus' eyes carefully. He didn't know what exactly he was doing, or why he felt so confident, but it was well appreciated.  
"I am expected to return to CyberLife HQ upon completion of my mission for debriefing. It won't be a problem to get in. I know where they keep them." Markus' expression was light itself.  
"I can do this." Connor said, sure. He knew this, he would do this. Would it be easy? 84% chance of confrontation. So, no. Not easy. But when was it ever, truly?  
Markus breathed out a small and heartfelt, "You're amazing."

Connor didn't really know how to respond to that. Markus had already pulled him into a hug, eyes closed in his sincerity. Connor let his hands rest on the others back. He let out a sigh. Markus pulled up to look into Connor's eyes. Connor found himself shivering under the sight, the intensity behind Markus' gaze causing him to forget where they even were.  
"Thank you. For everything, really, I know . . I know this is hard, and strange, but I'm so. . I believed in you, Connor. From the beginning, you know? You're one of us." Connor's systems are going haywire, he can feel it. But he says nothing. Doesn't dare to move. He wants to take this moment and imprint it into everything he does for the rest of his life.  
They let go of each other, still connected, still looking at each other.

Words eat at the back of Connor's throat. He should say something, he should say that he remembers seeing Markus' file and immediately being drawn to him, he wants to tell him that the other man plagued his thoughts every day even though his very purpose in life was to catch him and everything he held dear. Markus was Connor's key to Kara, Markus was the key to taking down the revolution and yet? And yet it didn't matter anymore.

He said nothing, simply just caught Markus' hand as the man started to turn. "I never fail a mission." He settles on. The words feel familiar on his lips, but now there is another level of meaning.  
Markus grins, squeezing Connor's hand and dropping it amiably. "I know. I mean, you did catch me _eventually_ , right?" And with that, he was gone.

* * *

Kara's hands shook as she placed them on Alice's sides. Her daughter looked at her with such content. They had already talked about what was about to happen tonight, that they hoped everything they had worked for would go into motion. Different sectors had already started their movements, simple marches and lighting of digital beacons. They were ready to broadcast their respective messages.

One had already gone up, from south. Kara's two trustees, previously two Traci models from the local Eden Club, posted their story for the world to see. Now known as Mira and Emilia, they stood in the eyes of the public — hands held tight. A livestream from every major news outlet was already in progress. There was talk that the President herself would speak on the issue tonight, meetings were being held. Now, it was their turn to progress. 

"Kara?" Alice's soft voice broke through.  
"Yes, love?" Kara responded quietly, playing with her child's hair.  
"I don't want them to hurt you." It was a heartbreaking thing to hear, something that twisted Kara to her core. Kara, an AX400 model with enough standard backup parts to last her 3 lifetimes had the worry and adoration of this young, mortal girl. "We're gonna be just fine." Kara stated. "I won't let anything happen to you. But you and me, we're gonna be really brave, okay?"  
Alice nodded, understanding and determined. "Okay." She replied, hands meeting Kara's and squeezing. Kara stood tall and reached for Alice's hand.

Together, they walked.  
Behind them, the people of Jericho filed. It felt like thousands, but Kara knew it wasn't even 200. Still, she would always remember that sound. Shuffling feet, proud footsteps. They would all have to go. This place could be there home no more, and they knew it. Even if tonight changed things, they would have nothing to come back to. So, they walked.  
They walked through crowds of violent men, they walked through awestruck parents, they walked through guns trained at their backs. There was no order to shoot. Not yet. Kara led them as she always had, Alice standing by her side. They walked, hand in hand, snow crunching under every groundbreaking step. The authorities had sent helicopters and vans and bombs but nothing had happened.

Until they were stopped. A captain of some sort, maybe FBI stood in front of them. As Kara led deviants, this man appeared to lead the forces. In his hand he held a megaphone, brash and loud. He raised it and stated. "Disperse immediately. If you refuse, we will open fire. You don't want to do this."

That was just the thing. _Of course they wanted to do this._

Kara's eyes grazed over the sea of rifles on their position. That fire in her burned once more, the desire to reach behind her and draw her own weapon. To shoot the captain square between the eyes and be damned whatever happened after. Just as she felt the twitch of her trigger finger, she felt the squeeze from her daughter.

Alice. Alice was here.

Alice was **everything**.

Her gaze turned back to look up at Luther who stood to her left. Then, North at her right. Behind her directly were her boys; Simon, Josh and Markus. They would not falter here. Markus had been right. What happens here is forever.  
Kara had written a speech to give right now. The cameras from the helicopter were on her. She took one step forward. Then another. She heard guns cocking, shuffling behind riot shields. The captain slowly lowered his megaphone. Kara opened her mouth to speak - and instead, was interrupted by a quiet voice singing a quiet song.

Alice, gripping onto Kara's coat, was singing. She got louder, not showing any signs of fear, only compassion. Solidarity. Simon's voice followed; it had been a song he had taught her, one the compound had heard often in their restless nights together. Kara found herself joining, looking ahead. Their voices, slowly but surely, melded together into one. Powerful and harmonious, the melody seemed to beat into the opposing forces as bullets would. Kara watched them lower their guns. She watched the order to stall be given. She sang until her voice box ached.

The song started to reach its end, and it was then that she thought her life would end. The captain had traded his megaphone for a pistol.  
More footsteps. Several startled officers and a couple of raging lieutenants. Kara, through the sea of opposition, saw RK800 - Connor, the infamous deviant hunter - unswaying in his movement, march forward with a legion of white collared androids behind him. It had worked.

It was as if their musical call had been answered.

Connor walked past the firearms to meet the captain.  
Brief words were spoken, of which Kara could not hear. She could only makeout white noise and the feeling of Alice pressed against her side, North's hand on her shoulder.  
Connor turned to her then, and nodded.  
The authorities were leaving. They were free to go.

They were free.  
Oh, dear hope, they were free.

And, oh dear hope, were they alive. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> might do a timeskip epilogue but boy ! they did it !!! 
> 
> what do you guys think ? epilogue or no ?? i Do aim to please


	9. a clear sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrapping things up with a bow.

Kara knew and understood three things so far; 1) Alice hated spaghetti but loved alfredo sauce. 2) The humans were as reluctant to change as ever and 3) she loved and was loved beyond measure.

She had awoken beside North, the sleepy love coated in her strawberry blonde hair. They had picked up the habit of sleeping; androids didn't need to, really, but charging for about 6 hours every few days was absolutely mandatory. Sleeping at night, whether it meant checking on systems with a laziness or just booting down for a while, was nice. Calming.

It meant that for them, the fighting was done.

The rioting and raging and marching, the gunfights and beatdowns, the singing could rest. It was all yesterday.

North was tomorrow. Alice was the future. 

Luther lived next door. He had wanted to be close to Alice, but also find time to take care of himself. He'd always watched over someone else. Kara found herself smiling as she saw him sit outside on his porch steps, reading a book Alice had found for him. Alice in Wonderland, a hardback copy with pages. There was no doubt that Luther could just find the old tale somewhere in his database, but there was no reason to do so. No reason to rush so much anymore.   
North had learned to play chess, and was currently teaching Alice. Alice asked questions about every detail, every move, and North found that she enjoyed saying "actually, I don't know".

It meant they could find out together.   
It had been 7 months since the rebellion. Detroit, after being evacuated at that fateful time, was now full of deviants and humans alike. It had been a trickle, the humans wandering back into their old homes. Now, as the city economy tried to get back in gear and jobs were under discussion, Kara found herself attending city hall meetings and video calls with the President. Androids had been given rights as living beings. Some called it basic human rights, but Kara had not fought to be basic or human. She had loaded guns to be prepared. She had infiltrated Stratford Tower to give hope. She had marched with her daughter at her hip to be free. Her family had not done what they did to _become human_. They did it to be android, without fear.

Kara sat on the porch swing with her arm around Alice. The sun was going down, shifting to a lovely dark pink over their home. North sat one the second porch step, her head resting against pillar. Luther hung in the doorframe, as comforting as always. They were home.

They planned to keep it that way. 

* * *

  
Markus was starting to get very good at this whole thing.

New Jericho, an old CyberLife warehouse, was functioning as a shelter and care unit for androids and recovering humans alike. Their back room was filled to the brim with bio components and blue blood to rush to the aid of anyone who needs it. They had plenty of aid kits for humans as well, and those who recover typically leave with job experience under their belt.   
Markus sat on the bed of his new apartment and ironed his jacket. It was the white one from Simon, one he kept in prime condition. He had a small pile of clothes left to iron, a few being Connor's shirts for work. They were mostly the crisp white he was fond of, but one was baby blue and another was this odd paisley pattern. Markus assumed it were a gift from Hank, knowing his fashion sense.   
He smiled to himself, remembering some other choice clothing Hank had gifted Connor upon deviation. A sweater that had been printed with "I Am A Luxury . . Only Few Can Afford" came to mind. Markus nearly laughed at the thought. He hoped he could get his boyfriend to wear it again, just for a few pictures maybe.   
< _Markus_?  >   
Markus blinked. Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Or, rather, call upon an angel. . Markus raised an eyebrow. << _You alright_?  >> He asked, voice easy. Connor sounded exhausted.

< _Long_ _day_.  > He answered. < _We're not anywhere closer on this case than we've been all week, and I am so tired! Like, yeah, Hank and I found 9 possible suspects but they all have some sort of alibi that will be a nightmare to verify_!  > Connor groaned. Markus could imagine, clear as day, the detective running a hand through his hair as he pressed his lips together.   
<< _Oh, love. You'll do it, of course. You always figure it out._ >> Markus reassured, going back to iron out one of Connor's shirts. Now that he's thinking of him, anyway.  
< _I mean, yes, that's correct. But it's still. . frustrating._ > Connor admitted.   
Markus wanted to cup Connor's face in his hands, to study troubled brown eyes.

< _You'll get it! Because you're_. .  > Markus led, amusement painting his features. Connor sighed again, a soft smile surely playing at his lips. << _Because I'm the coolest damn Robocop this side of the border._ >> Markus grinned. < _Damn right_!  > He laughed. < _And don't you forget it_!  >

Connor laughed then, actually sincerely laughed, and Markus had to close his eyes and sigh at the sound.   
< _I'm at home, now, but could I come over soon_?  > Connor continued, the previous tension gone. Markus noted a signal come into his vision. 'Mission successful'. Connor had rubbed off on him more than he thought.

<< _Yeah, I'd love that. Bring that 80's movie, the one with the redhead_.  >>   
< _Markus, at least 37% of 80s movies involve a red haired character. According to my databases_ . .  > Markus groaned. Showoff. < _I'm just fucking with you, I'll bring Sixteen Candles_.  > Markus could hear - no, feel - Connor's smirk. < _Love you, see you soon_.  > The connection ended. Markus blinked. If his LED had still been intact, it would be yellow. Did Connor just say 'love you'?   
Holy shit.   
He had never imagined this. He had never thought that a man who once had a gun trained on his head would make him melt so easily. Had never thought he'd fall in love.

He was so lucky. They deserved this. He _knew_ he deserved this. 

* * *

  
Hank walked Sumo back up the porch steps, water bottle in hand. He took a swig before he moved to open the door. Inside, Connor stood in the doorframe of his room, moving towards the restroom. Hank noted that the boy's shirt was barely on, probably in the middle of coming off. He was trying to find another outfit. "Evenin', kid." Hank called, undoing Sumo's leash.   
"Good evening, Hank!" Connor called, turning back on his trek to the bathroom and returning to his closet.

They had renovated the former "study" into Connor's room. It was nice, with a desk, a dresser, some posters from a couple of shows the two of them had gone to. Knights of the Black Death had been a favorite. Connor took it upon himself to frame his certificate from the DPD Academy, officially a member and detective of his own accord. "Date night?" Hank asked, settling into his best chair.   
"I'm meeting Markus at his apartment shortly. I wanted to wear something other than the uniform."   
Hank nodded, thoughtfully. It had been . . odd to hear from Connor that he and the last deviant in his hunt were now lovey dovey. It seemed kind of poetic. If that was your thing, anyway. 

"Wear a tshirt." Hank offered. He heard the shuffling pause. "Tshirt and that jacket ya got for your bike." He had been around long enough to know that it was hard to say no to brown eyes and a motorcycle jacket.   
Connor continued his shuffling and returned shortly after with a navy blue shirt, leather jacket in hand. He had opted slacks for jeans and work shoes for boots. He looked like a 20 year old kid. Hank felt a smile pull on his features.  
Connor held his arms out, expecting a judgement. He stood and ruffled up his son's hair. "Look good, kid. Have fun, lock the door on your way out."   
Connor grinned. He had left behind that polite, creepy smile he forced himself to do when they first met, and was now being more genuine with his emotions. If Hank thought about it too much, he got mushy. So, he tried not to think about it and just let it be.   
"Alright! Have a good night, Hank, I'll be around tomorrow!" Connor called as he grabbed his helmet and walked out the door.

Hank sunk back down into his seat and acknowledged the television.   
Yankees game.   
Yankees suck.

He let his mind wander for a moment. He wondered if it would always be like this, peaceful in his home. Not so empty.

He hoped so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU !!! Everyone who read this and commented such kind things, I owe you my heart!! Sorry for a bit of delay on the epilogue,I hope its sweet enough for everyone!!   
> I will be writing more dbh, and probably some in this universe, and definitely about connors motorcycle


End file.
